Flecked With Gold
by The Jingo
Summary: Fresh from his victory over Toneri, Naruto realizes one very important thing: His life is not a crappy romance novel. To avoid the expecting eyes of a besotted Hyuuga, he decides to join Sasuke on the hunt for the remnants of Kaguya. Too bad no one warned him about the mileage. Co-Authored with Glacious.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: We don't own Naruto nor do we own ASOIAF, and we make no profit writing about them.**

 **(AN - White):** I can't even say what this monstrosity is. I was bored on Discord one day after reading _To Restore a Clan_ and said "Let's write a smut fic where Naruto and Sasuke decide to team up and conquer all the girls in the world".

And thus, this horrific bastard crack harem fic power wank series was born.

 **(AN- Glacious):** *Weeps in shame and vows to forget all about having ever written this and the fics to follow* I really wish I could explain this away, but to be honest, my desire for humour overpowered my distaste for smut. And thus, I ended up collaborating on this…abomination. So expect a lot of "humour" (I use this term loosely, and it's not to everyone's tastes), and a lot of insanity. No sex this time (hopefully), but with King as a co-author, I know this series will quickly degenerate into harems and hedonism. I am sorry, Fanfiction. I have failed you.

* * *

Sasuke prodded at his left elbow, restraining a wince at the twinge of pain that swelled at the junction of his bicep and prosthetic limb. He'd been reluctant to get his replacement arm attached, especially considering the mismatched freakshows Danzo and Obito had been, but after Naruto whined about it for the seventy-fourth time the Uchiha had caved.

At least keeping it wrapped up in bandages meant he didn't have to _look_ at the corpse-white skin. Sometimes he could even pretend that he had his own arm back and not something birthed from the corpse of a long dead grandad Hokage.

"Hn," he grunted, dark eyes flicking up to meet Sakura's stern emerald gaze. Sasuke had no desire to fan the flames of eternal romantic obsession. But they seemed to have flickered, winked weakly; once, twice, one last time and finally, died away before the winds of wisdom and maturity. The woman before him was the embodiment of professionalism. From the frown on her face, to the lab coat, to the pink hair bunched into a ponytail, she radiated a sense of purpose, of belonging here, to the hospital. A march from innocence to competence, immaturity to adulthood. A girl no longer. No longer a romantic that creeped him out and made him contemplate leaving Konoha a second time.

It made him glad.

Besides, he was supposed to at least _try_ to be polite. It was part of the reformed international criminal shtick. Or so Kakashi had said.

(Not that his former mentor was the most reliable source of wisdom. Sasuke still _vividly_ remembered being twelve and hearing about Shinobi Rule Number Forty-Two: Always Carry Condoms.)

Folding her hands behind her back, Sakura grinned.

"It's no problem," she chirped, and he contemplated again, how she was not ground down by the burdens that maturity had surely placed upon her shoulders. They had grown up before her, and it had taken a toll on them. Yet transition, for her as far as he could see, had not been taxing. This sudden insight into her own mind and its workings, this curious (and welcome) abandonment of obsession had taken nothing, had cost nothing.

Compared to the other members of Team Seven she had less power to her name, but in the sterile confines of the hospital Sasuke was on _her_ territory. She seemed to relish it, this display of finally being of some use.

"Just remember that if you have any problems with it you come and see me right away. Don't try and ignore it like some stupid forgetful muscle head, or I'll have to put an entirely new one on. Naruto almost got to the point a few times, and it's not pretty to have to fix."

"Hn," he said. He wasn't Naruto, so it was really unneeded, but Sasuke found the admonishment almost… praiseworthy. The light in her eyes was clinical, despite the bubbliness to her voice.

They had all wised up in their ways. Sakura had become one of Konoha's premiere medical professionals and a famous kunoichi in her own right. She had got over him and got down to work. Sasuke had finally overcome the haze of anger and the inferiority complex that had dogged him for years. And Naruto…

Naruto was on the roof of the hospital, his chakra throbbing anxiously in the corner of Sasuke's mind like a flickering fire. Something was troubling Sasuke's pseudo-brother, and he supposed it was probably his job to go find out what. That was what friends did, the Uchiha supposed.

"Oh, by the way, Sasuke…" clipped, business-like tones that brooked no argument, and a crisp prescription note was shoved into his right hand, with the detachment of a doctor doing her job. Cocking an eyebrow at the sudden gesture, Sasuke flipped over the card.

" _My dear, beloved, sun and stars and moon and everything beyond, Sasuke-kun,"_ it said,

Sasuke blinked. That did not…seem like a prescription. Yet, he soldiered on, just in case he was mistaken.

" _I want your body. I shall be you, and you I, and we shall be one. There will be no end to our one-ness and no beginning. Give me your body. Take me as I take you, and let our love be etched across the pages of history in the fluids of fluent, violent lovemaking. Give me your body, give me your babies to bear…"_ It ended there, the last eight words a shaky scribble. A cluster of fluids- blood from a nosebleed, and drool, he assumed (he refused to think of anything else, he did not want his mind broken)- had turned the note wet, and red.

And for a moment, just a moment, he was back with Orochimaru, the creep screaming, "Your body, Sasuke-Kun! Your body, it is mine!" pale face burning with desperate desire, and a lust for life.

He looked up, slightly shaken, and Sakura was still watching him with _that clinical_ detachment.

"Well?" she asked, sounding almost bored. But he could she the quiver of her legs, her lips, and the eager tilt of her body like a predator waiting to pounce.

"Hn." He took half a step away from her. Then another. And then, Sasuke yanked up the window and jumped out, every movement the epitome of lordly refinement and dignity. He was _not_ running away, no sir. This was just a strategic retreat. Even S-ranked former international criminals and demigods were entitled to such things from time to time. His honor was intact.

* * *

Naruto ran his bare hand through the spikes of his short-cropped blond hair, blue eyes crinkling as he scanned the horizon again. He didn't see anyone, but even without relying on his emotion sensing Naruto _knew_ that they were there. That _she_ was there, veins bulging around her white eyes as she peeped on him.

It wasn't paranoia if they were actually out to get you.

Crossing the shingled hospital roof once more, Naruto dug his fingers beneath the cloth of his hitai-ate and pulled the sweat soaked band off his head. The winter wind was biting at the exposed skin of his neck and the bare tips of his fingers, but the blond couldn't help but perspire anxiously.

Just for a little while, he needed to _get away_. Which was why he decided to stalk Sasuke to the hospital before his best friend could slip by and disappear on the 'journey of redemption' the Uchiha liked to blab about.

"What are you doing here, usuratonkachi?"

Naruto turned on his heel, blinking at the oddly greyed out colour haunting Sasuke's face before dismissing it. The bastard probably just had low blood sugar. "Hey, Sasuke. What's up?" he laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his head with bandage wrapped fingers.

A silent beat passed where Sasuke just stared. Then the Uchiha blinked through his long bangs, left eye rippling purple into the concentric rings of the Rinnegan. Very carefully, Sasuke let his gaze rove from the crown of Naruto's head to the tips of the jinchuuriki's toes.

"What are you planning?" he demanded suspiciously.

Naruto scowled. "Nothing! Can't I just stop by and say hello? Not all of us are bastards like you." The defensive tone was accompanied by Naruto folding his arms over his chest and jutting his chin out. Oddly enough, the display of aggressive stubbornness seemed to settle Sasuke, since the blazing violet of his left eye faded away.

"Tch."

Drawing folds of his brand-new cloak that he'd bought to replace his worn poncho tight around his throat, Sasuke turned away. A handful of leaps brought him across the crouching buildings of Konoha's slowly expanding metropolis and to the borders of the Naka River.

"What are you doing?" Naruto prodded as he flickered into existence next to the Uchiha, his sudden burst of speed probably sending his various watchers into a confused flurry as they realized that they had lost sight of their target.

"Going for a swim," Sasuke replied sarcastically.

Punching Sasuke in the lower back, right over the kidney, Naruto smirked triumphantly as Sasuke shot him an impressively vile glare over his shoulder. Served him right for refusing to answer simple questions like a normal well-adjusted citizen. "You heading back out soon?"

The atmosphere of prickly friendship and banter drained away like old dishwater being sucked down the drain.

Sasuke kicked at the light layer of powdery snow that covered the ground, his dark eyes staring absently at the frost rimed surface of the river his cousin had supposedly died in all those years ago. "Yeah."

"Alright."

Shoving his hands in the pocket of his black winter coat, Naruto chewed the inside of his cheek and hesitated. Once he asked, he couldn't take it back without looking like some kind of indecisive asshole. Did he really need to go _that_ far just because everyone was looking at him with annoying expectations after the fight with Toneri?

"I'm gonna go with you this time."

Sasuke stopped dead at that, frowning slightly as he turned in place to meet Naruto's azure gaze squarely. "Why?" he asked, the expression on his face mingling bafflement and worry. They might have been best friends, but the two of them inhabited very different worlds. Sasuke was the wanderer, drifting back into town from time to time to tend to his hardy roots. Naruto was the rock that centered their entire peer group. Sasuke belonged on the road, Naruto belonged in Konoha.

Suggesting otherwise was almost a violation of the natural order.

"I just…" Naruto's hands wiggled in his pocket, seized by the vague desire to just move and properly convey the agitation that had sunk into the base of his skull. "I'm not trying to be an asshole, but I just need to get away for a bit, you know? Everyone always has these expectations like I'm supposed to be this big shot that can solve everything from world peace to the question of what to do with your cheating wife. On top of that, ever since I went up to kick Toneri's ass they're all asking me when I'm getting married. I'm not even _dating_ Hinata!"

Tilting his head, Sasuke digested that. "So, you're running away from your fangirl?"

Naruto spluttered, glowering at the suggestion that Uzumaki Naruto ever ran away from anything. "I'm not running away, asshole! I'm just looking for a vacation. We saved the world. I saved it _twice_. Everyone is finally working together for a better future. I've spent years studying under Kaka-sensei to be the next Hokage. Why can't I have a couple of months where I just relax and see the world before I become Hokage and find a girl to get married to? I'm _nineteen_ , not _thirty_. Let's live a little."

"Fine."

"And another thing – eh?"

"You can come." Sasuke shrugged. If Naruto was sincere about his desire for a vacation, it wasn't Sasuke's business to stop him. If the blond really wanted to go, he'd go with or without the Uchiha. And it might be… nice to have some company that wasn't the long road or the winding wind.

Then a thought occurred to Sasuke.

"Just so you know, we're not stopping at any brothels."

" _What_? I never went to any places like that. Maybe _you_ did, but I'm not some dirty perv." Naruto's entire face was scrunched up in indignation and embarrassment at the suggestion. Honestly, _him_ going to some titty bar. Who the hell did Sasuke think he was?

"I have my doubts, O pupil of the Toad Sage."

* * *

It was he that had received a blood-stained love note on a napkin. He, Uchiha Sasuke. It was him that should have been in hiding. It was him that should have been panicking, packing his bags and preparing to bid a pleasurable good-bye to Konoha. Good-bye, and good riddance.

He was the calmer of the two.

"We…are to tell no one?"

Naruto had shaken his head frantically. "Not one word. I want to leave this place alive. I want my freedom."

The journey to Naruto's house had been straightforward. Naruto had packed quickly, thrown in a hundred of his terrible tracksuits, and they were done. The journey after, though…

He seemed to have some reservations with regard to being seen. Sasuke could not understand. He _did not want to_. They had taken to hiding behind lamp posts, scampering around street corners, tossing smoke bombs and tip toeing around the created smoke screens (uncaring of the people wheezing around them), creating clones _to misdirect and to throw off pursuit_ as Naruto had put it, and resorting to speeds that would have put Kaguya and her ilk to shame.

And at the moment, they were glued to a wall and covered in a tattered bedsheet, sweaty bodies pressed uncomfortably close together- arm in arm, legs in a tangle; invisible to the world, unable to meet each other's eyes, understanding each other's inevitable shame at what was half a step short of spiritual incest. Sasuke was reminded of Sakura's talks of oneness, and unbidden, a shiver ran down his spine.

"Why the fuck are we doing this to ourselves?" Sasuke whispered, furiously.

"Diversion. Distraction. A desire to live, and not be a sperm bank for Konoha's next generation."

"You're Hokage in training. Order them to leave you alone."

Naruto smiled, and there was a certain sadness to it, "You don't know my life."

And despite the sweaty tangle and the indignity of the position that they were in, Sasuke felt a sliver of sympathy for Naruto. He decided then, that the next time he wished to take over the world and kill everyone in it, he would take Naruto along too. The blond looked weary. And nothing reinvigorated the soul like ( _vengeance... a good killing spree_ )...peace… and talks of friendship and brotherly love.

"All clear. Keep up, bastard," Naruto said, and he tore off the bedsheet and took to his feet again. Sasuke followed, though he was still unsure what they were running from, or where they were running to. His plan had been to traverse through the elemental nations first, and then, if that did not suffice, to dimension hop in search of clues on threats greater than Kaguya. He hoped that they could continue with that, but having Naruto in the mix had the potential to alter things a touch.

Things were altered far sooner than he had hoped.

They hopped from rooftop to rooftop, frantic, each step bringing them oh so close to freedom. But then they were spotted. While atop the Hyuuga mansion. Not by the guards. Not by ANBU. Not by the Kage himself. Not even by Sakura or his legions of fangirls that still hoped for…something, and that, for some reason, would not leave him alone. No. No. This was far worse.

Hyuuga fucking Hinata.

When she spotted them, creeping towards the gates of Konoha like two thieves in the night, she blushed and waved. And Naruto, squeamish and somewhat pale, waved back. In retrospect, everything that would happen after, every single fucking thing, was Naruto's damn fault.

As Naruto began to wave, Sasuke experienced a sinking sensation. Creeping dread. Dawning hopelessness. Horrors were about to be unleashed. A far greater burden than saving the world a third time. He tugged at Naruto's sleeve, trying to get him to stop and stave off the sense of imminent damnation.

But the perspiring blond, in his haste to escape and his happiness at being so near freedom, so close to leaving behind the curse of matrimony, did not just shake off Sasuke and continue to wave; he blew her a kiss.

She blushed beet red, brought a shaky hand up to her hair, and then tipped backwards in a dead faint.

And then every single eye in the compound swiveled their way, pinning them, arresting them, freezing them on the spot with a hundred creepy eyed glares. And creepy eyed glares reminded Sasuke of his clan, and the clan of clan restoration, and clan restoration of how he too would soon be auctioned off like a prized pig - cushy, fat, and comfy - to a slaughterhouse.

Soon he too would be expected to have a hundred replicas of himself - shorter, cuter, chubbier, less murderous to the village and more so to enemies - running around. Suddenly, Naruto was not alone in his war; this war against being turned into a factory for mini war hero production. And Sasuke knew, he just _knew,_ that he would have to fight his way out if he wanted to preserve his honour and what remained of his dignity.

So he made the mistake of glaring right back, Rinnegan in one eye, Eternal Mangekyo in the other.

That, too, was a mistake.

As one, they gasped and drew back; horrified. At once, Naruto gasped and hid behind him, horrified.

"The Uchiha," someone screamed, "He has turned the Hokage in training against us and the heiress! Against Konoha!"

At once two hundred eyes turned back to him, taking a measure of him.

"I did nothing," Sasuke insisted, feeling a sudden need to defend himself. "Nothing!"

A second's silence. A moment's peace. And then a hundred weapons were drawn and pointed at him.

It went downhill from there.

Their cover blown, they rushed to the gates, a hundred Hyuuga in tow. The ANBU joined in moments later, then the Akimichi and the Aburame, and then the Inuzuka. The Nara saw them blaze past and then returned to their slumber, uncaring either way. And in minutes, a rumour had made its way through Konoha, tearing through quicker than they could scramble to the gates, that Uchiha Sasuke was up to his old tricks again. That being nice had been a ploy on his part to get his hand back, and that he had turned the Hokage in training against them.

Naruto had protested his innocence, their innocence, but no one listened to what they had now taken to calling the Uchiha fuck puppet.

"I told you not to wave," Sasuke said, still calm but with the hysteria slowly building. After he got out of this place, he would first kill Naruto and then re-assess his stance on world peace. People this stupid did not deserve freedom.

Naruto was near tears. He ducked under a volley of Kunai and said: "I swear I'll do anything. Anything you say, Sasuke. Just get me out of here."

"Where?"

"Anywhere in the nations! I'll even lend you my chakra. Just get us _the hell outta here_!"

The gates were near. They had loomed into view now, but Kakashi stood before them, arms raised. Perhaps to kill them, perhaps to talk things out, and perhaps, to stop Naruto from getting away. Sasuke did not care. If Naruto wanted out, Sasuke would make damn sure he got it.

The Rinnegan swirled, he reached out and gabbed Naruto's hand. It was nearly done. They would be in Iwa in half a-

And then Naruto added his own chakra to the technique, and Sasuke turned, furious. To shout, to tell him that he was overpowering it, to tell him to stop…

They vanished, leaving behind a mob of baffled morons, and Kakashi, still holding up his hands in peace.

* * *

 **(A/N-Glacious):** I'm just…so sorry. We are degenerates. By the time we are done, we expect to end up on several international watchlists. Also, uh, if you have read this and have nothing better to do, check out my stories, maybe? See ya next time.

 **(AN - White):** 3200 words. This is … wel,l you will see. Right now it's just Naruto and Sasuke avoiding marriage, but the road to hedonism is long…

 _"There's no one left to fuck, Sasuke!" Naruto said, hysteria colouring his tone, eyes as dead as his deflating erection._

 _"We can either rob the cradles...or the graves." Sasuke's Rinnegan glowed in the dark. "It's time to put my gift to good use."_

 _And thus Konan was reborn._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: We don't own Naruto, and we don't own A Song of Ice and Fire. We make no profits writing fanfics about them.**

 **Contributing Authors: The King in White, Glacious, Last Falconry**

 **(AN - White):** This chapter was hotly debated, but in the end I feel I was satisfied. I'm sure at some point we really should have stopped. Instead, let's keep going and see what happens.

 **(AN- Glacious):** We disagreed quite vehemently on what course this story ought to take. I nearly chickened out of writing the part that I did (everything after Catelyn's POV), but then King reminded me that our collab agreement included smut, crack and _**black humour**_ _._ So, I sat and wrote it out. Laughing at times, but feeling miserable about myself for laughing. You are turning me into a monster, King.

* * *

The copper scent of blood filled the air of the feast hall, accompanying the screams of the wounded and dying Northmen. For Catelyn Stark, it was the kind of scene she had only beheld in her deepest nightmares. "Seven preserve us…"

Stumbling drunkenly through the hail of crossbow bolts and around Frey men locked in mortal combat with her son's army, Catelyn plucked a dagger from the cobble floor and clenched it in sweat slicked fingers. She needed to do something – _anything_ – to halt the slaughter before she lost her only remaining son.

Her grasp tightened, fingers clenching down hard on the hilt of the dagger, as she frantically looked about among the chaos, searching for that catalyst that would let her bring her desired outcome about.

She stopped, her eyes wide. _There_ , in the corner was one of the Freys, staring dumbly at the struggle to the death that happened around him.

The rotund fool was her key. Witless he might have been, he was still one of Walder Frey's children. There had to be _some_ love there, some desire to not see his son leave to the void, _something_ that she could use to ransom the safety of her only living son.

Cat's grip tightened further, becoming more akin to the grasped roots of a gnarled oak than the soft hands of a noblewoman. She had a goal now, a purpose that steeled her against the panic and mortal fear gnawing at her heart.

Swiftly she strode through the crowd, going unnoticed among the men clashing for their lives, until she reached the weasel-faced son; who hadn't noticed her either. He was still staring at the battle with an expression of imbecilic curiosity.

Reaching out, Cat roughly grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled his back against her. Before he could protest, the point of the knife was pressed against his neck, hard enough that a drop of blood escaped past the skin. The boy whimpered, but the sound was lost among the din of the battle and even if Catelyn heard, it was beyond her ability to care about something so trivial as her hostage's discomfort.

" _Stop_!" Her voice was shrill and raw from panic, almost inhuman. Even through the clashing of blades, it caught the ears of everyone in the hall, and slowly, as though unsure, the fighters disengaged, backing away from each other, clearly defensive. A note of confusion sprung up. Was a mother's fear enough to motivate them to drop their blades?

Her blazing blue eyes fell on Frey, the elderly man's hand raised and that feeble hope was burned to ashes. He might have called them off, a brief halt to the assault to take stock of the new variable in the situation; but the wrinkled old ferret still wore his greed like a cloak.

A shard of dread, sharp and cold, buried its way into her gut. The Late Lord Frey didn't look fearful. He appeared mildly curious and more than a little amused, as though she were a jester doing a trick that was somewhat clever and had managed to catch his attention.

But there was no way that was true. It was a mask, he was trying to cover up anything that she could use. _He had to be_. Her hostage might be an obese useless tit with the mind of an idiot child, but he was still the man's _son_.

It took every ounce of effort Cat could muster to keep the quiver out of her voice when she spoke. "Allow my son to leave, Frey and I will spare your own. A son for a son."

An expectant breath was held at her impertinent demand – because what else could it be but a rash claim? The Northern Host was locked out of The Twins, and the lords loyal to her son were dying all around her. Catelyn was utterly in Walder Frey's power, and they both knew it.

Cold triumph glittered in the aged Lord's watery eyes, and he shook his scrawny head. Walder Frey might have been one of the oldest men in Westeros, universally reviled for his cowardly pettiness and weasally countenance. But in this moment, despite being crippled by gout, he loomed taller than any other man.

Cat didn't even have to hear him to know that her last desperate demand would be denied. The liver-spotted hand of the traitorous lord twitched down, and all hope was gone.

Then, a deep purple light seethed into existence with a crackle, swelling over all their heads like a looming toxic cloud.

* * *

The world had gone dark for a few moments. Now, it sprang back into existence. Harsh light. Solid ground. Stone beneath their sandals. Naruto was hit by a wave of nausea. Sasuke had doubled over next to him, gasping, showering abuses - something about overpowered techniques and going and fucking a camel's caramel cunt.

Strange chattering. Panicked cries. Tunnel vision.

He threw up.

Then he looked up, vomit still trickling down his chin and onto his tracksuit. The world blurred in, out, out and then in again. He saw terrified eyes and a quivering frame. A mere child (or was it a half man? The height fluctuated from second to second, five feet tall then two taller, then three shorter, and Naruto vowed never to travel using Amenotejikara again), held hostage by a woman whose face was twisted into an expression of what he assumed to be malevolent glee. He could barely think straight. But he had seen a similar expression twice before, on Madara's face and on Sasuke's, and he knew that nothing good could come of it.

A bead of blood appeared at the base of the man's throat. He whimpered. The woman pressed down harder.

Naruto moved. But his movements were clumsy due to disorientation. He still covered the ten feet between them in the blink of an eye, but where he had aimed to end up right before her so that he could pluck the dagger out of her hand, he ended up behind her; a good two feet behind. And then he threw up again, lost his footing, and tumbled to the ground, into a pool of blood.

A dead man stared right back at him. The lady's first victim, he assumed. A grim reminder of what was to become of the man child if he did not stop her.

He somehow got back to his feet, still swaying, eyes still on the woman and the child, the world around still dark. He saw her hand move; saw it being drawn across the man child's throat in slow motion, and he did the only thing that he could think of. A desperate ploy. One final attempt to stop her.

He drilled a rasengan into her back.

He had aimed to incapacitate. The power he had pushed into it was a mere fraction of how much he could have. It would only have _scratched_ at most an S rank Shinobi, temporarily putting them out of commission. Enough time for the bastard to get his act together and put them all under Genjutsu until they could straighten everything out.

That is not what happened.

Catelyn Stark shot across the room at unimaginable speeds, like a cannonball let loose, man child still in tow. She smashed through four rows of tables, tore through a few banners that hung low - none of it slowing her down - and crashed into a wall a good twenty feet away.

The wall exploded. _She_ exploded. A pike stuck to it sheared her head off. There was a crunching of bone; the wall cracking louder than a gun shot. Stone, brick and mortar torn were loose. A fountain of blood sprayed across the room like a sprinkler system gone haywire. Body parts flew, smashing into men, biting into steel, digging deep into the tables and leaving bloody gouges.

Walder Frey had the misfortune of being seated not more than three feet from where Cat had been turned into a blood splatter. The head, or what remained of it, flopped onto his lap. The head was harmless, but his shocked fall as he twisted away in an attempt to evade it was not.

It was so sudden that he dislocated his hip, had his heart stop due to the pain (and perhaps age), and he died, slowly, painfully. Wheezing. Purpling. Clawing first at his heart and then at the shards of stone and the wood splinters that had burrowed themselves into his eyes during the explosion.

The North Remembered. In her death, Catelyn had her revenge. Insta-revenge, too. Like a ' _pour hot water and prepare in two minutes_ cup of noodles' instant kind of revenge.

As for her, she and the Frey man child had been glued into one, joined, in their moment of death. They had achieved the one-ness that Sakura had so lovingly talked about, and now it was impossible to say where she ended and where he began. There's wasn't much left of either. Perhaps enough to pack into a shoebox. Not a lot beyond.

The hall fell silent, weapons lowered, violence temporarily forgotten; contemplating, quite philosophically, the curious nature of the three deaths they had just witnessed. Naruto stood there for a second, swaying, hand still outstretched.

"Oops," he settled for saying, eventually. And then he fell to his feet and was violently sick a third time.

The strange chattering, something that Naruto was coming to realize was a language, resumed all around and the men burst back into life. Into a violent dance of chaos and confusion, undecided on whether to slaughter each other or the new entrants.

The hall had blurred back into view. Naruto could see the entire room now with the corpses strewn around. The dying men and drawn weapons surrounding him. The wreckage that they had stumbled into finally evident. And Naruto realized, with a sinking heart, that the situation afoot might have been just a bit more delicate than simple hostage rescue.

Then Sasuke got to his feet, getting over _his_ disorientation. He took one look at the carnage around, another at the men sprinting- snarling, weapons drawn, towards Naruto. At the crossbow bolts flying towards _his Hokage to be._

 _His friend._

 _The man that had saved him._

 _The man he had vowed to serve and protect, no matter what._

And Uchiha Sasuke decided that the situation could not be allowed to stand. That everyone deserved to die, violently.

Naruto, on the other hand, fresh from realization of the enormity of his error and halfway through an existential crisis absently swatted away the crossbow bolts. He ducked under the onrushing army and gracefully extracted himself from the free for all that ensued; this fish market of sweaty men with bloody blades, noisily swearing vengeance (or so he assumed), spitting and screaming at him as they swung, swung and swung again; pointy things raining down upon him from the heavens; his mind starting to have a meltdown.

He caught Sasuke's eyes, saw the determined glint within, realized what the Uchiha was about to do, and shouted: "No, Sasuke! _Don't!_ They're too easy to accidentally break!"

But it was too late. A sensation washed over him. A mere annoyance to the shinobi, but the men around stopped dead in their tracks; weapons slipping from nerveless fingers. And down they went, like sand castles painstakingly built losing shape, like wooden toys callously flung off clifftops shattering against jagged rocks underneath, like specks of dust casually vacuum cleaned out of existence.

Tongues tied, tripping over each other, shuddering, twitching, blood gushing out their mouths and down their noses. They continued to twitch for half a second more; foaming at the mouth, bleeding from the nose, the putrid stench of excrement rising from their behinds, and then they were still. Sasuke's killing intent was ten times as potent as Orochimaru's. The sensation had only lasted a second before he realized his mistake and backtracked, but the damage was already done.

They were dead. Every last one of them. The frantic voices within had been silenced. The sounds of battle outside had died down. In under a minute, Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke had unintentionally routed two armies that had come together to wine, dine, and finally let the seed of treason wipe out the North's resistance. They had killed treason. They had killed justice.

"What the fuck just happened?" Sasuke asked uncertainly, prodding a corpse (Roose Bolton's) with his foot. The man's trousers were starting to brown, mouth still half open in a half scream taken to the afterlife; a final wretched plea for mercy.

"We…we killed so many people," Naruto whispered, sinking to the floor. His eyes were starting to moisten. The look of profound innocence seemed out of place given the blood and vomit that he was covered in.

A groan caught Sasuke's attention. There, just five feet from him, a man lay breathing his last. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to get out something, anything. But it was no use. Sasuke could see that he was beyond saving. That he barely had moments left to live.

So he did what any half decent human being in a strange world ought to do.

He walked up to him and said "Ningendou," before reaching for him and grabbing his soul. The memories were made his own, and four things were made clear to him as the man shuddered one last time and then went still.

One, this was a world different from their own. The language. The cities. The culture. Everything.

Two, he could now speak the language. Being an overpowered shinobi had its benefits from time to time.

Three, they had stumbled upon a bloody struggle for something called the Iron Throne, and they had just wiped out the only sane claimants to it.

And four, he had, without meaning to, sucked out Robb Stark's soul with an echoing slurp.

How very inconvenient.

Naruto was wailing now. Tears leaking down his eyes and snot down his nose as he rocked back and forth, hyperventilating while looking at the lady he had decapitated. Sasuke briefly considered sparing him more pain and torment, then shrugged and told him everything there was to tell anyway.

The wails rose in pitch and fervor. Naruto crawled through the sea of corpses, miraculously identifying the only two that he was responsible for.

"I'm so sorry, lady," he said, "so, so sorry." It seemed insufficient. There was nothing more to say. The head, which still lay in Walder Frey's arms, stared at him in judgment. He had stopped crying for a few moments to get his apology out. Now, with his apology rebuffed by the dead, he began to weep again.

Sasuke felt his heart go out to his friend. This clusterfuck was not Naruto's fault (except it totally was), and he had only killed two out of the several hundreds, perhaps thousands of people that had died that day. But to see him so defeated, so miserable, so far from his cheery self was gut wrenching. _Heartbreaking_. He had to try and console his friend. Try and cheer him up again. Try and show him that he understood his pain and that he would help him in fixing this mess.

He walked up to Naruto and knelt beside him.

"Hn," he said, sympathetically, almost sorrowfully.

"Thanks, Sasuke, you're a great friend," Naruto said, between sobs, rubbing away at his face with his sleeve.

Then he reached out, grabbed Sasuke's brand new cloak, and blew his nose in it. Sasuke felt his eyebrow twitch, but he said nothing. He was not one to kick a man when he was down.

"Her sons are all dead?" Naruto asked, eyes still red, lip quivering.

"Yes."

"And her daughters are held captive?"

"Yes."

"But she has a half son still alive?"

Sasuke hesitated. "Sort of," he eventually settled for saying.

Naruto's eyes, dull up until then due to the deaths he had caused, shone with hope. "Ya think she'll forgive us if we put him on this Iron Throne?"

Sasuke hesitated again. Catelyn Stark, from what he had seen of her in Robb's memories, hated Jon Snow. She considered him a blight to their family. She had been relieved when he had left Winterfell for the Night's Watch. He nearly said as much, but the hope in Naruto's eyes gave him pause.

Telling Naruto the truth would probably crush him. That there was no penance for what they had done. That Jon Snow had no interest whatsoever in sitting on the Iron Throne and that Catelyn, if she were in some sort of an afterlife, would slit her wrists in despair at the very thought of Jon ending up within a thousand miles of any throne, let alone the greatest of them all.

"She will, I am sure," Sasuke offered instead. "She'll be delighted if Jon Snow sits on the Iron Throne."

And there, amidst a field of corpses of their creation, Naruto's smile shone brighter than the mid-morning sun.

"We'll find him and do that, then," he said, rising. "And we'll save her daughters too." He turned to the head. "I promise you I'll do both, lady. And I never go back on my word. Believe It!"

And for a moment, Naruto was sure that the mostly ruined head looked back at him with some softness and consideration.

Sasuke watched him turn and trudge towards the door, still subdued. But with purpose and a new promise to fulfill.

He wondered again if he ought to tell Naruto the truth, and again he was cast back to the Valley of the End where, twice, Naruto had been willing to give up his life to preserve their bond of brotherhood.

 _No,_ he decided, _I owe him that much. It probably won't be too much of a problem. Hopefully. Find the Starks held captive, find Snow, put him on the throne, get the fuck out of here._

He had no interest in anything other than the _getting the fuck out_ part, but Naruto was his best friend. And he would do what Naruto said.

He sighed, then stood and followed Naruto to the door.

The things that he did for love.

* * *

 **(AN: Glacious) –** Before you ask, no, the last one isn't some kind of a homoerotic yaoi reference. This won't turn into the two of them suddenly developing the hots for each other. It was supposed to show friendship and brotherhood, that's all. I am quite aware, though, of the context in which it is used in both ASOIAF and GOT. Also, the disagreement was with regard to killing Catelyn and the black humour involved. But I will happily admit that it makes a lot more sense than them just showing up and deciding to help her win the Iron Throne for *insert random reason*. Which is why we opted for it in the end. Writing it out was…traumatizing, though. Just went and butchered one of the most touching scenes I've come across in while. I'm so sorry!

 **(AN – White):** 3050 words. Stop crying you pansywaist, it's all downhill from here. Anyway, for those curious about the contributing author tag – while Glacious and I can be considered main coauthors, we might have others pop in from time to time to add a bit. So they'll be credited there.


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